Fifteen
by percychased
Summary: "Life isn't waiting for the storm to pass; it's learning to dance in the rain." A series of unrelated drabbles.
1. Ocean Breeze

_Ocean Breeze_

The salty ocean breeze ruffled her hair, and a light mist was spraying. The ice-blue waves were crashing against the rocky shore violently, but the sky was clear and the sun beaming down on her.

"You said you would tell me why you like the ocean so much."

Cho turned to see him standing there, and couldn't help but be a little irritable that he had broken her blissful silence.

"Not right now." She turned back around, facing the waves and closing her eyes, trying to salvage the peaceful moment.

Cho would probably never tell him – he was a Muggle, and he didn't know of magic. The ocean reminded her of Cedric; the possibilities and the future and what could have been. It was kind of an outlet to her magical past, the one she had given up for him.

* * *

_For the Fantastic Beasts Challenge; category Ramora_

_the If You Dare Challenge, prompt #118 silence_

_Word count; 141_


	2. Midnight Snack

_Midnight Snack_

* * *

"C'mon, let's go!" James tugged on her wrist, rolling back and forth on his heels.

"I can't believe you dragged me into this," the redhead grumbled, but allowed herself to be pulled along awkwardly.

The invisibility cloak wasn't exactly large (James had to slightly crouch), and the corridor was eerie and dark, lit only by the tip of James' wand.

"Is this seriously what you do? Take the stupid cloak and get _midnight snacks_?" grumbled Lily.

"Yep," answered James brightly, as if he hadn't notice the annoyance in Lily's tone.

"And _why _did you decide to drag me along?" They had started walking at a more rapid pace, causing Lily to stumble a few times as they made their way to the kitchens.

"I didn't decide," reasoned James, "I asked you, and I quote, _you can come, if you'd like, Evans, _and you said, _whatever then, it's all on you if we get caught. _It was optional."

Lily grumbled something incoherent at his logic.

* * *

_Written for; _

_the Musical Terms challenge, category affrettando (hurrying; pressing onwards)_

_the Fantastic Beasts challenge, category demiguise (write about what someone uses the invisibility cloak for)_

_Word Count; 164_


	3. Long Letter Home

_Lucy,_

_I'm sorry I couldn't make it. I miss you, and it's hard being away from home. It's being away that makes me miss the little things; you know, all of the shoes crowded at the doorway, the smell of your grandmum's cooking, the treehouse. It's too big, and too lonely here._

_I looked into those Muggle things your mother told you about: cassettes. It's quite fascinating, Lucy. I found one, and I don't know how to use it but that's what's in the package attached to this letter._

_Do you miss Hogwarts too? We were together almost every day for the better part of ten months, and then I leave for France and you do your Healer training. If I could go back in time, I'd tell my old self to enjoy the school days while they last._

_How is Molly and, most importantly, yourself? Enough talking about me. I miss you (if I haven't already mentioned that) and, well, you probably already know, but I love you._

_Your weird-named adventurous admirer,_

_Lysander_

* * *

Written for;

the Fantastic Beasts Challenge, category nogtail

the Writing Scripts Boot Camp, prompt cassette

Word Count: 174


	4. While They're Young

"And... here they are!"

Two blonde babies, who couldn't be older than a year old, were sitting on the floor, one knawing on his baby toy and the other trying to pull it out of his hand. They both had a light tuft of almost platinum blonde hair, with shining blue eyes, and plump cheeks. It made Hermione miss when Rose and Hugo were little.

"Luna, they're adorable..." smiled Hermione, leaning down and patting one of the babies heads softly. "Lorcan and Lysander."

"They are," said Luna, brushing a strand of straggly blonde hair streaked with dirt from the garden away from her face and admiring her children proudly. "They get into everything, must be the Dirigible Plum they stuck in their mouth that Rolf left lying around - honest to goodness, that man." Luna seemed to loose herself in thought for a second, but blinked and looked at Hermione.

"Soon as you know it, they'll be off to Hogwarts, though..." breathed Hermione.

"Oh, Rose is starting in September, isn't she?"

"Yeah," said Hermione, with a tinge of sadness. "It'll be different for sure. Treasure the time you have with them while they're babies."

Luna looked from her children to Hermione and smiled serenely.

* * *

_For the Fantastic Beasts Challenge, category Plimpy_

_Word Count: 204_


	5. Joining

"I have to go join him."

"Why?" Daphne's blue eyes turned to ice, and she looked him over.

"You _know _why. I'll be disowned if I don't. And don't tell me your parents don't agree – they're just too busy being pureblood society people," He didn't even falter once while replying.

"So you're doing this because your _parents _want you to?"

"Are you saying that you wouldn't if you had to?"

Her shoulders sagged, but she still remained a little tense. "It's dangerous. Yes, I wholly believe he had the right idea, but it's dangerous, Adrian."

"You could get killed," she continued.

"You think I don't know that?" he snapped, rather harshly.

"Obviously you do," answered Daphne, matching his tone of voice. "All I'm saying, though, is to be careful. I'm speaking for all of us when we say we'd rather you alive than cold and dead in the ground. Be careful."

"Careful is my middle name."

* * *

_the If You Dare Challenge, prompt #218 Careful is my Middle Name_

_the Fantastic Beasts Challenge, category red caps_

_the Super Insane Prompt Challenge, #119 Adrian Pucey_

_Word Count: 157_


	6. I Have Choices

"If I've told you once, I've told you a million times. I'm _not _quitting my job and becoming a housewitch. I thought you knew me better than that-"

"Yeah, and I thought you said you wanted a family!"

"That isn't the point, Ron! _Yes, _I do want a family. Do I want to quit my job and raise a whole bunch of kids? No. With no intended disrespect to your mother, that's not the life I want to lead."

"You're being selfish-"

"_I'm _being selfish? Are you bloody kidding me?"

"No, I'm not! You are! Throwing a fit! Sometimes you have to sacrifice things to get other ones!"

"How _wise. _You can't force me to have kids; I just started my job, and I'm loving every minute of it! I am not, for the last time, sacrificing my job to have children. That's that, and I'm not hearing another word against it."

* * *

_for the Super Insane Prompt Challenge, #584, sacrifice._

_the Fantastic Beasts Challenge, category Acromatula_

_the If You Dare Challenge, prompt #180 Throw a fit_

_Word Count: 152_


	7. Twins in No Senses

"Twin's are telepathic. Can't you, like, read each others' minds and stuff?"

Truth is, Parvati and Padma were sisters. Just sisters. They never seemed to have that bond – where they knew each others' thoughts, knew them better than they knew themselves. They weren't two parts of a whole, they were completely separate beings.

"No," Parvati would tell Lavender, "I can't. It doesn't work like that."

Maybe it was because Parvati was a Gryffindor and Padma a Ravenclaw; they didn't share the same living space, or the same common room, and most of the times didn't even have classes with each other.

Parvati thought it was because they didn't focus on their similarities, and instead, focused on their differences, so they became distant and developed their own taste – in everything, really.

Sometimes Parvati would want to be a little closer to her sister, especially when Lavender was off snogging some bloke and she'd be by herself… but that was the way things were. They weren't twins in all senses but DNA, and maybe sometimes Parvati would wish for it to change, but it never would and that was the way it was.

* * *

_Word Count: 191_

_Written for;_

_The Fantastic Beasts Challenge, category knarl_


	8. Never Happen

The past few months had been bliss. Complete and absolute bliss.

Maybe it was the thrill of sneaking around and not telling anybody; not the two _others _that they should have been with. It was exhilirating, even though it was taboo. Hermione Granger, war hero, the most clever witch of her generation, and cheater…

She admitted to herself that she didn't like branding herself mentally as a cheater – but it was true. You didn't just sneak around and snog and do various other unmentionable things without having a little bit of a guilty conscience.

Every time Ron would look at her with his sparkling blue eyes and say, "I love you, Hermione," her heart would twist a little bit, but being good at bluffing she would repeat the sentiment.

And then he would be gone working as an Auror and she would be working from her own home, trying in vain to tell herself that next time would be _the last time. _

But next time turned into next week, and next month, and next year, until Hermione gave up on convincing herself that she would end the sneaking around and the lying; because if she was being completely honest, she didn't want to end it.

It wasn't kissing Ron – his felt somewhat forced, and occasionaly dull, but Fred's were – _passionate, _the ones that blew your mind and left you unable to think straight with a silly smile on your face. There was always the lingering wonder if he kissed Angelina like that but was always forgotten immediately after his lips touched hers.

The last time Fred had been rigid and stiff – Hermione never initiated anything, she waited for him to do so, but he never seemed to. The silence had been awkward.

"I'll just be going," whispered Hermione, a little disheartened.

"No," said Fred, barely audible. She stopped and pivoted so that she was facing him, and wondered what he was going to do next…

"I'm proposing to Angelina."

A breath caught in her throat as the words were spoken, and she looked down. The cold winter wind was making her hair flutter wildly, but she wished it was able to cover the heartbroken expression.

Hermione nodded, and was completely determined to not let herself cry. _He isn't worth it. He's with Angelina, you're with Ron, and now it's official. _She knew she wasn't going to cheat with a married man… and that's exactly what she had been doing.

"I… congratulations, Fred," she said, and the smile on her face looked completely fake. _Was it wrong already being in a relationship and wanting another man to stay out of anything serious, just for you? _Yes, it was, and Hermione knew that if he wanted to spend a life with Angelina she wasn't going to stop him.

"Thank you," he replied, but his voice was lower than usual. "I just thought... I'd tell you."

"Yeah," she said, and there it was again - that fake little smile, plastered on her face. Her eyes told the whole story, though - shining with un-shed tears and a little bit duller than before.

"This means..." Fred drew in a breath, and continued talking. "This means we... Angie... I shouldn't have done this in the first place..."

Hermione closed her eyes and nodded slowly, determined to not let him see the tears. "I know," she whispered, and her voice cracked. "I know. It never should have been."

* * *

_Word count; 576... this literally killed me to write. otp breakups are the hardest :(_

_Written for;_

_the King of the Fanfics Competiton, round 1_

_the Fantastic Beasts Challenge, Jobberknoll_

_the Hogwarts Classes Category Competition, category Arithmancy_

_the HP Potions Competition, category Heartbreakers Teardrops_

_the Colors Competiton, turquoise negative_


	9. For All the Right Reasons

_Gosh, this is short. (Wordcount: 133 words). Written for teddylupin-snape's Fantastic Creatures Challenge, category Winged Horse._

_Emily. x_

* * *

For the first time in a long time, the attention wasn't unwanted. It was her wedding day, and it would probably be the first time that she wouldn't mind everybodies eyes on her. Today didn't feel like some kind of power she had over people, Veela power, it was just plain Fleur in her dress, and there for one man only, and everybody could see that.

It was the day she'd be marrying the one man who understood her; didn't stare at her like a hawk, but respected her as someone with intelligence and personality rather than just her beauty. Fleur felt absolutely perfect. It was exactly how it should be, and she wouldn't change it for the world.

She was, for the first time in a while, feeling perfect externally _and _internally


	10. First to Last

_September 1976_

"Not that I don't love Bill, Percy, and Charlie, Arthur, I want a girl," Molly pleaded.

"There hasn't been one born into the Weasley family for seven generations, Molly," he reminded his wife gently, while she coddled a newborn Percy.

"I know, but I want a girl, a baby girl."

"Well," Arthur sighed, determining his reasoning as a lost cause, "We'll just have to keep trying until we get there."

Molly stroked the little tuft of red hair on Percy's head, and smiled slightly as he wrapped his chubby baby fist around her finger. "I think I agree with that."

* * *

_January 1978_

"Charlie! Get back here this instant!" The five year old raced around the Burrow, clutching a live-action dragon finger in his toddler fist as his six-months-pregnant mother chased him around. He ducked into a corner.

The red-headed boy giggled, a high-pitched laugh, from wherever he was hiding. "Can't find me, Mummy!"

"Charles Weasley, get your behind over here right this second!"

The little boy was quiet, until Molly heard a mild shuffling and her slightly ashamed son appeared in front of her.

"Sorry, Mummy," the little boy pleaded, and Molly's heart melted over the puppy-face expression he was wearing.

"Don't do that again, Charlie," she scolded, and plucked the dragon out of his hand, "I told you not to touch this. Now run along and go find Bill."

Molly let the smile creep up onto her face as Charlie waddled away, and rubbed her hand over her bigger-than-usual stomach, smiling. She would be happy with a boy or a girl, as long as it was hers and she could love it unconditionally.

* * *

_Late August 1981_

"Mrs Weasley, it's a girl!"

"What?" asked Molly sharply. Though after giving birth she was tired and wanted to just pass out and would usually see stars, the Healer's words brought her to alert.

"A girl, a beautiful baby girl," the Healer emphasized, and passed the little bundle of pink blankets over to the beaming woman, who tucked the baby down into the crook of her elbow and gazed at it lovingly before turning to her husband, who was seated next to her.

"Arthur, it's our girl," she murmured lovingly, and the said little girl blinked her eyes up at her mother.

* * *

_Word Count: 399_

_Written for Cheeky Slytherin Lass' Master of Spells Challenge_

_Fantastic Beasts Challenge, Peruvian Vipertooth_


	11. Repressed Feelings

_Hey guys. Yeah, I've been kinda busy, moving and all..._

_Written for the Ultimate Pairing Drabble Competition, pairing Charlie/Katie and prompt "He's nothing, I swear."_

_Fantastic Beasts Challenge, category merpeople_

_Em x_

* * *

Roger gave Katie an inquisitive look. "_Weasley? _Charlie Weasley? What'd you got going on with him?"

His girlfriend had an impassive look on her face, and retorted angrily. "Nothing, Roger, I've already told you this! Stop being a jealous bint."

"Someone told me you were getting kind of cozy outside the Leaky Cauldron yesterday," he snapped in response, giving her an _I-can't-believe-you-would-do-this-to-me_sort of face.

"So what?" Katie asked – she wasn't lying. Charlie was _just _a friend. Even if she had feelings towards him – not confirming or denying the the fact – Katie Bell was _not _a cheat. "Do you believe every rumor that comes around?"

"When it has to do with my girlfriend of a year cuddling up to someone else, yeah, I do, I'm kind of doubting your honesty right now," replied Roger heatedly.

"He's nothing, I swear," said Katie coolly. "As if you would think that about me!" Okay, so maybe she did have a _little _bit of a crush on one Charlie Weasley, but she was already with Roger, and Katie was sure it was just a flitting affection that would go away, one that was based completely on his abs and biceps.

"It isn't that hard to believe," said Roger in an equal fervor.

"And how, may I ask, is it not hard to believe?" questioned Katie in an angry tone, eyes blazing with fury.

"I know you have a thing for him!" exclaimed Roger dramatically, and it took every inch of resistance Katie had not to roll her eyes at him. True as his statement may be (although she would never admit that out loud) he was a tad dramatic.

However Katie was grasping the last straw; the relationship between them had been going downhill lately, and arguing was all they seemed to do, the last time they had a_proper _kiss, she couldn't remember. It was fizzling, and not at all passionate like it once was.

Gathering all her pride, she faced him and said, "Maybe I do. Maybe _that's _why I'm leaving you."

And with a huff, she stormed out of the flat they shared together.


	12. Searching

Fleur Delacour was a patriot, putting it simply.

She might be a little biased, seeing as she grew up in France and very rarely traveled but she still wholeheartedly believed that France was the best; for school, for food, for music, for culture. It just, in her opinion, didn't match up to anything else.

Fleur was a little put off that she would be travelling to _England _of all places for a whole entire year, to _Hogwarts,_ but that annoyance was squashed when she heard about the Triwizard Tournament.

For Madame Maxime and the rest of Beauxbatons, it was a chance to glorify their school even more. It was, however, a whole different opportunity for Fleur. Despite the fact that she wouldn't be in her homeland, the Triwizard Tournament, if she was picked from the Goblet of Fire, would be a chance for her to prove herself. That she wasn't all long legs, blue eyes, Veela charm and flowing silvery-blonde hair. Fleur _was _more than that, right? And if Madame Maxime believed in her, then she could do it.

The moment Fleur had started at Beauxbatons, she had been treated differently than any of the other girls. At home, it was her and Mama and baby Gabrielle and Papa, and her family members treated her fairly. They understood, because they were the same too. But when she started school, the other French girls gave her pointed looks and jealous glares, and the boys were always much too nice – and fumbling – around her for her liking. What would it take for her to be treated like a regular human being?

Proving herself. Proving that she was more than good looks, to herself (yes, hard as it was to believe with her confident, airy, most of the time snobby exterior, Fleur needed to prove herself too) and to others. Then maybe she wouldn't hear the whispers – "_What can she _actually _do?" "She's just tres belle, that is all, there's nothing else to her." _ Fleur had always been taken under Madame Maxime's wing, and maybe that didn't help, but the two had differences that put them apart. Even her cousins didn't have as much Veela in them; a sixteenth, if that. And Madame Maxime was almost nine feet, a height that dwarfed everyone around her. They were both different, and different together.

When she had gotten to Hogwarts, Fleur had taken to critiquing everything in the Hogwarts castle – while big compared to Beauxbatons, it certainly wasn't as elegant as what she was used to, the gilded gold archways and the marble flooring and the French food. The uniforms were dull, not very stylish at all, and the poltergeist was offensive and annoying – Madame wouldn't let anything like _that _near the gates of Beauxbatons. The students were a little more – how could she put it – _crude, _and certainly didn't have very proficient manners, if you couldn't get that from the way most of them shoveled food into their mouths like the world was going to end tomorrow.

There would be a few times, however, where she would catch a flash of brilliant red hair from across the arena briefly, during the first task, but it wasn't an ogling, awestruck stare; no, it was like he was searching her instead of just grasping the surface, and it felt unnerving. He was much too old to be a student – mid-twenties, at least – and a short, maternal-looking middle aged woman accompanied him to the first task. The red hair was everywhere at Hogwarts, Fleur had noted to herself, catching glimpses of two identical redheads, a girl that seemed much younger than the rest, even a Ministry official, proud and pompous. They seemed to be all related, but only the slightly older man with the long red hair tied back would give her a searching gaze.

Sort of like he was seeing the whole entire ice burg, instead of the tip. And that was something she definitely wasn't used to.

It made her question herself; what did he see about her, what did he see that was so different from others? Why wasn't he fawning over her like everybody else? It scared her a little bit. Nobody had ever looked at her that way, and Fleur wasn't very accustomed to change – although one could figure that out by listening to how much she critiqued the interior of Hogwarts, compared to _her _school and _her _homeland.

Gulping, she had kept her head up high and continued preparing for the next task, amid talks about a ball. A ball. The Yule Ball, she had been told it was called. Although it would have been much better if it had been held at Beauxbatons (again, the patriotic pride), Fleur was thrilled. To walk down in front of the whole entire crowd with an attractive boy and dance the night away.

Although she did have to admit to herself, going with a boy who was going to hang off her arm and gawk at her all night didn't sound as appealing as it used to. Fleur only dared to hope that she would be able to find someone who would actually be able to hold a conversation with her. That would be refreshing and very welcome. The ball was the main topic of conversation for the weeks before Christmas, and most of Beauxbatons decided not to leave on Christmas break, just to attend it.

Although she did end up going with slightly attractive Quidditch captain Roger Davies, who fawned at her the whole night, but was decent enough, she couldn't put that redheaded man's gaze out of her mind. It was consuming her thoughts. No one ever looked at her like that. It was either the pointed jealous stares of girls or the wide-eyed ogling, or the familiar gaze of her family.

It was a year and a half before she was _actually _introduced to Bill Weasley.

* * *

_Written for the King of the Fanfics Competition - I got the school Beauxbatons and chose the character Fleur Delacour_

_For the Fantastic Beasts Challenge - Common Welsh Green_

_Word Count: 1,009_


	13. Nobody Knows

"Does anybody know?"

That would usually be the first and last question he asked.

"No," Dean would reply, and wonder why he cared so much about secrecy – maybe wizards treated things differently than Muggles did. It always confused him, just a little bit.

His thoughts would become blurred and hazy after their meetings, and so Dean never really dwelled on the fact that this was most likely a thing that would always be kept a secret. A secret rendezvous. As thrilling as it was sneaking around behind the backs of their friends and families, wouldn't it be a little bit a of a relief to be able to go out in public and be able to do all of the things that other couples could?

Sometimes Dean could see the little tinge of regret in Seamus' eye when he left – like he thought it was a _mistake _or something. Maybe it was, but it was one of those mistakes that happened to turn into a wonderful thing, right?

While they were together, though, Dean could always count on something to be repetitive; it happened every single time and he always replied with the same answer, and they usually wouldn't speak after that.

_Does anybody know?_

* * *

For the Fantastic Beasts Challenge, category Flobberworm, and the Ultimate Pairing Drabble Competition, with the pairing Dean/Seamus and prompt secretive. 207 words.


	14. Savage

He stood, poised in the shadows, fangs bared menacingly and half hunched over, the ridges of his back poking out from the stretched fabric of his torn shirt. His breath came in loud puffs of air, but the people who held his gaze and attention were much too far away to hear him.

He glanced up at the moon while the crickets chirped loudly; the pale grey orb was only missing a sliver from the side. It would be full moon again soon. _Soon. _

That wasn't really needed, however. He was a savage with or without the moon; the moon just happened to make him lose complete control on his mind and body. The bloodthirsty need never went away – it was always there. He couldn't remember a time where it wasn't there. Just the thought of blood on his lips, tangy and salty, made him drool a slight bit, through the deep breaths he was taking.

The September night was cold and the wind was nipping at his flesh, exposed in the torn clothing. The long stalks of hay which he was hidden behind sheltered him from the view of the simple little house in the distance, a beam of light shining through one of the windows and the curtains drawn tightly over the other. His upper lip curled over, exposing his canines.

He was sure no one was around. A lone field near a lone cottage, up north. With two parents and a five-year-old girl and a seven-year-old boy, completely _innocent. _No other people around, just an ordinary, simple Wizard family and that was that.

He would be _right there _when he changed, right next to them, right near them. He _would _go after the children, it would be too much of an allure. That's why he was poised underneath the moonlight, waiting and waiting for the full moon.

The full moon was when Greyback would attack.

* * *

_ Written for the Create-A-Potion Challenge, for wormwood, and the Fantastic Beasts Challenge, category Werewolf. Word count: 319_


	15. Stuck in the Middle

Dominique Weasley wasn't the smartest.

Not book-smart like Rose, or extremely good at Quidditch, or just completely likeable, like Lucy. She was far from dumb, but she didn't posses any of the talents of her cousins in the Weasley-Potter clan.

She wasn't stunningly pretty like her sister; no, she got stuck with the curse that was red hair and freckles and a pale complexion. She wasn't tall like Roxanne, or delicate and pretty like Lily Luna.

Dominique was the definition of a middle child, in every aspect.

Not that she didn't love her family - she did, really - she wanted to stand out, be her own person rather than be overshadowed by her Uncles' legacy or her mothers' status as a Triwizard participant. It was getting increasingly harder to become her own person - that wasn't too much to ask, was it? To _just _be Dominique Weasley and not the girl whose Uncle is Harry Potter, whose mother is Fleur Delcour, whose Aunt and Uncle were Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, whose Aunt Ginny played center Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies.

She just wanted to be Dominique Weasley and nothing else.

* * *

_Word Count: 192_

_Fantastic Beasts Challenge, category Gnome_


	16. Rose and Hugo

"Mummy, Hugo won't gimme the the shovel!" Rose tugged on her mothers leg.

"Hugo," called Hermione wearily, from the beach towel she was resting on, "please give your sister back the shovel!"

Three-year-old Hugo looked up to his mother from where he was sitting on the shoreline, cross-legged with the water washing up to his feet and making random jabs at the sand with a plastic blue shovel. "Mine!" he yelled in that toddler-lisp that made everyone melt over him.

"I wanna build a _sand castle,_" Rose whined, more insistant than ever. Hermione had vaguely hoped that taking her son and daughter to the beach while her husband was away at work would be a fun, peaceful, family daytrip, but evidently her almost five year old daughter _could not _stop arguing with her little brother, who took after his father in terms of stubborness.

Using her forearms to prop herself up, Hermione looked at her son, who was clutching the shovel protectively to his chest, and her daughter, who was trying to look as old as possible by putting her hands on her hips. "Can you share it?"

"No share! Shovel's mine!" shouted Hugo.

"_Muuuuummm," _whined Rose, drawing out her name in exasperation. Hermione grabbed her wand and picked up a few grains of sand, transfiguring it into another identical blue shovel.

"There you go, Rosie," sighed Hermione, and handed her daughter the shovel. Rose waddled away towards her brother and began digging right next to him immediately.

"Wanna build a sand castle, Hugo?"

"Sand cas-well?" asked the three year old. "What's sand cas-well?"

Rose smiled a crooked smile at her brother. "I'll show you!"

* * *

_ I've been addicted to writing Ron/Hermione family fics lately... sigh..._

_For the Fantastic Beasts Challenge, category Erkling_

_If You Dare Challenge, category Sand Castle_

_Legendary Gods and Goddesses Competition, category Poseidon_


End file.
